Don't Say: We Have Come Now To The End
by Spartans091
Summary: It is one thing to have greatness thrust upon you, but to be born into greatness, to be born into a prophecy, that is a burden that few people could handle. Can Vanya, an Elven Princess, handle the burden of this great prophecy while trying to save the very world that she has loved her whole life? Can she do all of that while keeping the one man she has ever loved alive?
1. Chapter 1

I sat in a shadowed corner of The Prancing Pony Inn - hidden not only by the dimness of the room, but also by the hood of my dark green cloak - in the small village of Bree, which could be found East of the Shire and South of Fornost Erain, but I was not alone. No, I was far from being alone. Beside me sat a light brunette Elf maiden, also hidden behind a dark green cloak, which I had known almost my whole entire life and her name was Alys. On Alys' left was a black haired Elf maiden hidden behind a black cloak, Ayleth. To the right of Ayleth sat another Elf maiden, this one had dark red, almost black hair who wore a dark brown cloak, Ellyn. Across from us sat a man that the four of us had known since he was first brought to Rivendell by his mother, Gilraen; he was known as Aragorn by few, but most knew him as Strider, by his Ranger name. He too was also hidden by a dark green, with a slight hint of dark blue, cloak.

The five of us had been sitting in The Prancing Pony for a little over two days' time now. Occasionally one or two of us would go and rest in the small, yet comforting room we were renting from the owner, Barliman Butterbur; but for the most part we spent our time sitting in our corner, watching the door patiently. Strider informed us when we first noticed him in the corner by one of the few fireplaces in the tavern that Gandalf the Grey had sent him to safely escort four Halflings to Rivendell when they arrived in Bree. He was quite surprised at first to see us as we hadn't stepped foot outside the Lothlórien woods for a little over 15 winters, but we quickly fell into our routine from when we used to travel together many long winters ago. We had pulled up a table to join his and sat with all of our backs against the wall - Alys and I with our backs to the wall with the fireplace on it, while Strider, Ayleth and Ellyn sat next to us, with their backs against the wall with the windows - so that we could all see the doorway, keeping a careful eye on all who entered and left the tavern. It wasn't long after we had sat down and were waiting for our ale to be brought to us that we told him why we were here.

_'My grandparents sent the four of us to help you, Strider, in bringing the Halflings to safet__y. Grandmother saw something happen to one of the Halflings along the journey, __though __she never told us which Hobbit it would be or when it would happen or even what would happen. Whatever it is though, it must be serious for them to send us from Lothlórien to he__lp you. She did __however __mention__ that one of the Hobbits carries something, a great burden that will attract unwanted creatures and attention to them out in the Wild. We will aid you in any way that we can, old friend,' _I had said to him, my hand now wrapped gently around a cold mug of ale.

"Are you sure we did not miss them, Thea?" Alys asked me quietly on the night of our third day in Bree; her face darkening as she turned towards me, away from the glow of the fire.

"Yes, Alys, I'm sure we did not miss them. My heart tells me they are on their way here. They will come soon. We just have to wait, they cannot walk as fast as you or I could, we have to remember that," I answered her, my blue eyes never leaving the door of the Inn.

"Ugh! I hate waiting! It is so boring here, there is nothing to do but watch drunk old men make fools of themselves all day," Ellyn complained; her soft silky black hair falling around her face from under her hood as she threw her head down on the worn wooden table in complaint.

"Oh Ellyn, you make a terrible Elf sometimes. We were born immortal, blessed by the Valar with the gift of long life, giving us all the time in Middle Earth to do as we pleased, peacefully and at any speed we wished. Yet here you are, complaining about having to wait a few days for some Halflings to arrive," Ayleth joked, her cheerful laughter filling the stuffy, smoke filled air that occupied the tavern under the rooms of the Inn.

"Oh quiet! I cannot help it if I am impatient," Ellyn whined, swinging her head upwards in exclamation; her hood nearly falling off of her head.

"One would think you would learn how to be patient over the years, my friend," Strider added in with a small toothy grin from where he sat next to me in the corner; his comment causing our small group to break out in quiet laughter once more.

After that silence fell over us for a short time when we noticed the door open, but seemingly no one walking into the tavern nor exiting the tavern; some of the stuffy air escaping out into the clean, crisp world outside, allowing fresh air to rush into the tavern, bringing with it the smell and sound of freshly falling rain. Our hopes rose as Mr. Butterbur leaned over the counter of the bar, as if to speak to someone or someone's who weren't quite tall enough to see over the counter. Four out of our group of five could just faintly hear the conversation that he was having with whoever had walked in over the loud boisterous chattering of the drunken men that filled the tavern.

"Good evening little masters. If you're seeking accommodation, we've got some nice, cozy Hobbit sized rooms available Mr...Ah..." Mr. Butterbur spoke, cleaning a mug with an old, well-worn cloth as he leaned on the bar. Our group of five leaned back a bit, letting out breaths of air some of us didn't even realize we were holding in; they had done it, they had gotten to Bree, our Hobbits were safe. For now at least.

"Underhill...my name's Underhill," One of the Hobbits spoke, his voice seeming small and innocent compared to the loud voices of the men around him.

"Underhill? Hmmm," Barliman murmured thoughtfully, pondering the name over in his mind, searching to see if the name sounded familiar or not.

"We're friends of Gandalf the Grey... Can you tell him we've arrived?" The same Hobbit asked, a tad bit of hope lingering in his words as he continued to talk with Barliman.

"Gandalf...Gandalf...Oh..." Barliman started puzzlement evident in every word. "Oh yes! I remember... elderly chap... Big grey beard... pointy hat?" He continued, "Not seen him for six months," Mr. Butterbur finished before turning around and returning to his customers at the bar.

The Hobbits were soon revealed to us as they walked out from around the corner of the bar and sat at an open table on the opposite side of the room from us; the table, benches and candelabras were much too big for their small figures, and the men around them towered far over their heads.

"They look terrible. So tired, and cold, frightened and hungry," Ayleth commented, after closely inspecting the group of Halflings as they sat at their table, digging into the bread and cheese that were brought to them by Mr. Butterbur, their eyes glancing all around them nervously.

"I would expect so. The Shire is quite some distance from Bree, at least eight days' time on horse, fourteen days or longer on foot. They must have run most of the way here, with little time to sleep for them to look so tired and worn as they do," Strider added.

"Of course they are frightened, Ayleth. They are in a place where they have never been before, let alone amongst the Big Folk. They have never seen so many Big Folk all in one place before. The Shire rarely gets travellers anymore these days," I too added; pity lacing my words as I spoke of the frightened look all the Hobbits wore on their faces.

The five of us sat there staring at them for a little while, studying them; it was quiet at both our tables, with one or two small conversations starting up briefly amongst the Hobbits before soon dying down. Thankfully for our keen Elven ears, four out of the five of us were able to hear their full conversations; Strider on the other hand had a bit more trouble and only caught bits and pieces of their talks.

"Sam... He'll be here. He'll come," One Hobbit said, offering some hope to his nervous companion who sat beside him; the Halfling who had spoken had curly brown hair, but what stood out most about him were his strikingly blue eyes. His friend, Sam, had curly blond hair, blue eyes and had a bit more meat on his bones then the other Hobbits. Another of the Hobbits came back to their table with a rather large pint full of ale in his hands, the pint just barely fitting between his two small hands that wrapped around it.

"What's that?" Questioned a Halfling with dark golden, curly blond hair and bright blue eyes; he had decided to sit across from the other two Halflings of the group at the table. His friend sat down on the old wooden bench beside him, placing the pint down on the well-worn wooden table; licking his lips anxiously waiting to taste the delicious ale.

"This, my friend, is a pint," Answered the Hobbit who had brown almost blond curly hair and blue eyes. He held his pint of ale in his hands that was almost overflowing, before slowly and carefully lifting it up to his lips and beginning to drink.

"It comes in pints?" The dark golden blond haired Hobbit questioned astonished.

"Mhmmm," Answered his friend as he continued to drink his ale; the pint nearly covering half of his face it was so large compared to him.

"I'm getting one," The Halfling declared, determination written across his face, before getting up and walking briskly towards the bar.

"You've got a whole half already!" Sam called out to his friend, who was already nearing the bar. It was quiet once again as the third Hobbit left to go and get his drink; sitting up at the bar with the men, but it didn't stay quiet for long.

"That fellow's done nothing but stare at you since we arrived. His companions haven't been much better either. They have looked at you nearly as long as he has," Stated Sam, pointing towards the corner where the five of us sat with a piece of bread in his hand. When the blue eyed, curly brown haired Hobbit cautiously raised his head and looked up towards our group, I can't say I really blame him for the fearful look that had fallen upon his face. The five of us sat in the shadows, with the hoods of our cloaks drawn up, and our heads were all turned in their direction, our features completely hidden from view. Not quite the best way to look when you are supposed to be helping this Hobbit and his three friends in the coming days.

"Excuse me. That man and his four companions in the corner, who are they?" Asked the blue eyed Halfling from where he sat of Mr. Butterbur as he walked by with some bread and three mugs of ale for other customers; his voice small and quiet.

"He's one of 'em Rangers; they're dangerous folk, wandering the Wilds. What his right name is, I've never heard, but round here he's known as Strider. As for his companions, they are rather friendly folk, even if they do not look it. I have seen their faces, but they wish to keep hidden from any unfriendly eyes. Although, they have never told me their right names, word has gotten round Bree that they are known as Thea, Alys, Ayleth and Ellyn," Butterbur informed the three young Halflings, glancing in our direction now and again as he spoke before he quickly hurried off to serve his other customers.

"Strider. Thea. Alys. Ayleth. Ellyn," The Hobbit whispered to himself, the flickering flames dancing lightly on his cheeks as he pondered over our names.

Not long afterwards, the five of us all looked to each other when we felt an overwhelming sense of evil suddenly erupt in the room. Others started to notice it too. Ellyn looked closely at the Hobbits while the rest of us paid close attention to the other men in the tavern, making sure this evil presence didn't overwhelm any of the weaker men and cause them to act out foolishly. A few moments later Ellyn nudged Ayleth's arm and kicked Strider's leg from under the table before nodding towards the brown haired, blue eyed Hobbit and whispered to us to look down at his hands. When we looked down at his small hands in his lap we noticed that he was playing with a simple gold banded ring. At first we thought it was just an ordinary ring, but then we heard it. That's when we realized just how wrong we really were. That's when we realized just how much trouble these Halflings were about to get into.

"Baggins. Baggins. Baggins. Baggins. Baggins," This low, evil whisper could faintly be heard under the loud chattering of the tavern. This whisper could only come from one thing, the one Ring of Power; and that voice that we, and others around the tavern heard, was that of the Dark Lord, Sauron.

The last _'Baggins' _whispered by the Ring was mixed in with the talking of the third Hobbit, the one who had gone to get a pint of ale after his friend had brought one back to their table.

"Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins. He's over there. Frodo Baggins. He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side and my third cousin, twice removed on his father's side, if you follow me," Spoke the dark golden blond haired Hobbit, pointing back towards Sam and the others at their table as he spoke.

The Halfling now known as Frodo Baggins, the famous Bilbo Baggins' nephew began to run towards his second cousin, obviously in a hurry to try and stop him from letting anymore information out, dodging in-between the figures and legs of the giants around him. As he was being jostled around from side to side by the men around him, Strider, Alys, Ayleth, Ellyn and I all sat at the edge of our wooden seats, ready to spring up if the Ring slipped from Frodo's hand or if any harm came to the poor Halfling; our hoods just barely staying on our heads now, our features just barely concealed behind a layer of weather worn cloth.

"Pippin!" Cried Frodo when he reached his second cousin, grabbing his sleeve and tugging backwards slightly, spilling some of Pippin's ale in the process.

"Steady on, Frodo!" Pippin replied, ripping his arm free from Frodo's grasp, knocking him backwards; Frodo suddenly unbalanced stepped back, finding the toe of a well-worn boot of one of the men standing just behind him with his heel. The young Hobbit fell backwards, the Ring flying up into the air as his back made contact with the hard, cold, and dusty and ale covered stone floor. The Ring seemed to hover in the air for a moment or two before crashing right back down onto Frodo's pointer finger and he simply disappeared from sight.

"Oh!" Exclaimed many of the men that had gathered around Frodo and Pippin, gasps and other exclamations could be heard all around the tavern as well, even a few curses could be heard. Strider, Alys, Ayleth, Ellyn and I all shot up from our seats, knocking them down to the floor or back against the wall as we rushed towards the spot where Frodo once was; struggling in vain to push past many of the men, trying to follow Frodo's tiny footsteps that he left in the slight dust and grime that layered the stone floor. When he pulled the Ring off moments later he was closer to where Strider was, resting up against the foot of a table and breathing quite heavily. Strider quickly grabbed Frodo by the shoulder, sweat evident on Frodo's forehead after experiencing the horrors of the Ring, and dragged him down one of the corridors which led to the stairs; Ellyn, Alys, Ayleth and I followed close behind. Strider pushed the frightened Halfling up against a nearby wood panelled wall and said, "You draw far too much attention to yourself, Mr. 'Underhill.'"

After this he turned around and carried the Hobbit up a few stairs by the back of his shirt before pushing him up the rest of the stairs and into the room that we had been renting for the last few days.

"What do you want?" Questioned a spooked Frodo of Strider as I closed the door behind me, everyone else already having entered the dark, cold room.

"A little more caution from you. That is no trinket you carry," I warned him, keeping my hood well on my head, masking my features from the frightened Hobbit as I turned towards him.

"I carry nothing," Countered the Halfling as he backed up against the pillar of the stone fireplace which provided most of the light and very little heat for the small, yet comforting room; the rest of the light was provided by the moon, peeking through the clouds and shinning in through the slightly grimy window.

"Indeed. We can avoid being seen if we wish, but to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift," Strider said, walking over to the window and putting out the flames of a few candles which rested on a sconce in the window frame with his fingers. After doing so he turned around to face us again, removing his hood from his head and revealing his ruffled, shoulder length brown hair and blue - with a tint of grey - eyes that held much wisdom and many stories of adventure and danger.

"Who are you?" Frodo once again questioned and although he was looking at Strider as he spoke, the question was aimed at all who stood in the room.

"Are you frightened?" Alys asked the Halfling, ignoring his question and answering his with one of her own. Her questioning brought Frodo to turn towards the four of us, standing near the closed wooden door, his only escape out of this situation he had gotten into; our hoods still drawn, our features all but hidden from his bright blue, pondering eyes.

"Yes," Frodo hesitated before answering truthfully, unsure of who queried him from the four that now stood before him.

"Not nearly frightened enough. We know what hunts you," Strider informed the Hobbit as he stepped closer to him, drawing the Hobbit's attention once more to him; confusion and worry all the more prominent on the poor Halflings features.

Strider and Frodo held eye contact with each other before the six of us heard a commotion coming from the stairs, a commotion that only got louder as it came closer towards our room. Acting quickly, Strider turned, ripping out his sword from its scabbard and standing in front of Frodo. Alys, Ayleth, Ellyn and I follow suit and quickly draw our swords as well - faster than both the man and the Halfling could even comprehend, using speed that only Elves could muster - before positioning ourselves protectively in front of Strider and Frodo. Just as we finish readying ourselves the door to the room is thrown open and we were met by the most unlikely of foes.

"Let him go! Or I'll have you, Longshanks," Sam shouted as he threw open the door, the light from the fireplace illuminating half of his face and the moon the other half, giving him an almost sinister look. Pippin and their final companion came bursting through the door after him, both with a gleam of adrenaline shining in their eyes at the prospect of a fight, a fight to save their beloved friend and cousin. Sam bravely held up his fists, while Pippin held a stool and their friend held a candelabrum as weapons to use against our swords. Seeing them as no foe, the five of us quickly sheathe our swords, doing our best to conceal the small smiles upon our faces at these Hobbits' courage.

Strider spoke to Sam, "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit. But that will not save you."

"You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming," I turned around and warned Frodo, and in turn the others; the light from the fireplace illuminating the left side of my face under my hood, revealing for the first time my blue eyes, my blond hair, and my natural Elven beauty.


	2. Chapter 2

I sat in a shadowed corner of The Prancing Pony Inn - hidden not only by the dimness of the room, but also by the hood of my dark green cloak - in the small village of Bree, which could be found East of the Shire and South of Fornost Erain, but I was not alone. no, I was far from being alone. Beside me sat a light brunette Elf maiden, also hidden behind a dark green cloak, whom I had known almost my whole entire life and her name was Alys. On Alys' left was a black haired Elf maiden hidden behind a black cloak, Ayleth. To the right of Ayleth sat another Elf maiden, this one had dark red, almost black hair who wore a dark brown cloak, Ellyn. Across from us sat a man that the four of us had known since he was first brought to Rivendell by his mother, Gilraen; he was known as Aragorn by some, but Strider was his Ranger name. He too was also hidden by a dark green, with a slight hint of dark blue, cloak.

The five of us had been sitting in The Prancing Pony for a little over two days time now. Occasionally one or two of us would go and rest in the small, yet comforting room we were renting from the owner, Barliman Butterbur; but for the most part we spent our time sitting in our corner, watching the door patiently. Strider informed us when we first noticed him in the corner by one of the few fireplaces in the Inn, that Gandalf the Grey had sent him to safely escort four Halflings to Rivendell when they arrived in Bree. He was quite surprised at first to see us as we hadn't stepped foot outside the Lothlorien woods for a little over 15 winters, but we quickly fell into our routine from when we used to travel together many long winters ago. We had pulled up a table to join his and sat with all of our backs against the wall -Alys and I with our backs to the wall with the fireplace on it, while Strider, Ayleth and Ellyn sat next to us, with their backs against the wall with the windows - so that we could all see the doorway, keeping a careful eye on all who entered and left the tavern. It wasn't long after we had sat down that we told him why we were here.

_'My grandparents sent the four of us to help you, Strider, in bringing the Halflings to safety. Grandmother saw something happen to one of the Halflings along the journey, she never told us which Hobbit it would be or when it would happen or what would happen. Whatever it is though, it must be serious if they had to send us out of Lothlorien to help you. She did mention though, that one of the Hobbits carries something, a great burden, that will attract unwanted creatures to them. We'll aid you in any way that we can, old friend,' _I had said to him, shortly after we had received a pint of ale each.

"Are you sure we did not miss them, Thea?" Alys asked me quietly on the night of our third day in Bree; her face darkening as she turned towards me, away from the glow of the fire.

"Yes, Alys. I'm sure we did not miss them. My heart tells me they are on their way here. They will come soon. We just have to wait, they cannot walk as fast as you or I could, we have to remember that," I answered her, my blue eyes never leaving the door of the Inn.

"Ugh! I hate waiting! It is so boring here, there is nothing to do but watch drunk old men make fools of themselves all day," Ellyn complained; her soft silky black hair falling around her face from under her hood as she threw her head down on the worn wooden table in complaint.

"Oh Ellyn, you make a terrible Elf sometimes. We were born immortal, blessed by the Valar with the gift of long life, giving us all the time in Middle Earth to do as we pleased, peacefully and at any speed we wished. Yet here you are, complaining about having to wait a few days for some Halflings to arrive," Ayleth joked, her cheerful laughter filling the stuffy, smoke filled air that occupied the tavern under the rooms of the Inn.  
>"Oh quiet! I cannot help it if I am impatient," Ellyn whined, swinging her head upwards in exclamation; her hood nearly falling off of her head.<p>

"One would think you would learn how to be patient over the years, my friend," Strider added in with a small toothy grin from where he sat next to me in the corner; his comment causing our small group to break out in quiet laughter once more.

After that silence fell over us for a short time when we noticed the door open, but seemingly no one walking into the tavern nor exiting the tavern; some of the stuffy air escaping out into the clean, crisp world outside, allowing fresh air to rush into the tavern, bringing with it the smell and sound of freshly falling rain. Our hopes rose as Mr. Butterbur leaned over the counter of he bar, as if to speak to someone or someones who weren't quite tall enough to see over the counter. The five of us could just faintly hear the conversation that he was having with whomever had walked in over the loud boisterous chattering of the drunken men that filled the tavern.

"Good evening little masters. If you're seeking accommodation, we've got some nice, cozy Hobbit sized rooms available Mr...ah..." Mr. Butterbur spoke, cleaning a mug with an old, well worn cloth as he leaned on the bar. Our group of five leaned back a bit, letting out breaths of air some of us didn't even realize we were holding in; they had done it, they had gotten to Bree, our Hobbits were safe. For now.

"Underhill...my name's Underhill," One of the Hobbits spoke, his voice seeming small and innocent compared to the loud voices of the men around him.

"Underhill? Hmmm," Barliman murmured thoughtfully, pondering the name over in his mind, searching to see if the name sounded familiar or not.

"We're friends of Gandalf the Grey... Can you tell him we've arrived?" The same Hobbit asked, a tinge of hope lingering in his words as he continued to talk with Barliman.

"Gandalf...Gandalf...Oh..." Barliman started, puzzlement evident in every word. "Oh yes! I remember... elderly chap... big grey beard.. pointy hate?" He continued, "Not seen him for six months," Mr. Butterbur finished before turning around and returning to his customers at the bar.

The Hobbits were soon revealed to us as they walked out from around the corner of the bar and sat at an open table on the opposite side of the room from us; the table, benches and candelabras were much too big for their small figures, and the men around them towered far over their heads.

"They look terrible. So tired, and cold, frightened and hungry," Ayleth commented, after closely inspecting the group of Halflings as they sat at their table, digging into the bread and cheese that were brought to them by Mr. Butterbur, their eyes glancing all around them nervously.

"I would expect so. The Shire is quite some distance from Bree, a day or twos time on horse, three or four days on foot. They must have ran part of the way here, with little time to sleep for them to look so tired and worn as they do," Strider added on.

"Of course they are frightened, Ayleth. They are in a place where they have never been before, let alone amongst the 'Big Folk.' They have never seen so many 'Big Folk' all in one place before. The Shire rarely gets travellers anymore these days," I too added; pity lacing my words as I spoke of the frightened look all the Hobbits wore on their faces.

The five of us sat there staring at them for a little while, studying them; it was quiet as both our tables, with one or two small conversations starting up briefly amongst the Hobbits before soon dying down. Thankfully for our keen Elven ears, four out of the five of us were able to hear their full conversations; Strider on the other hand had a bit more trouble and only caught bits and pieces of their talks.

"Sam..he'll be here. He'll come," One Hobbit said, offering some hope to his nervous companion who sat beside him; the Halfling who had spoken has curly brown hair, but what stood out most about him were his strikingly blue eyes. His friend, Sam, had curly blond hair, blue eyes and was a bit chubbier then the other Hobbits. One of the other Hobbits came back to their table with a rather large pint full of ale in his hands, the pint just barely fitting between his two small hands that wrapped around it.

"What's that?" Asked a Halfling with dark golden blond hair and blue eyes. His friend sat down on the old wooden bench beside him, placing the pint down on the well worn wooden table; licking his lips anxiously to taste the delicious ale.

"This, my friend, is a pint," Answered the Hobbit who had brown almost blond curly hair and blue eyes. He held his pint of ale in his hands that was almost overflowing, before slowly and carefully lifting it up to his lips and beginning to drink.

"It comes in pints?" The dark golden blond haired Hobbit questioned, astonishment clearly evident in his voice.

"Mhmmm," Answered his friend as he continued to drink his ale; the pint nearly covering half of his face it was so large compared to him.

"I'm getting one," The Halfling declared, determination written across his face, before getting up and walking briskly towards the bar.

"You've got a whole half already!" Sam called out to his friend, who was already nearing the bar. It was quiet once again as the third Hobbit left to go and get his drink, sitting up at the bar with the men, but it didn't stay quiet for long.

"That fellow's done nothing but stare at you since we arrived. His companions haven't been much better either. They have looked at you nearly as long as he has," Stated Sam, pointing towards the corner where the five of us sat with a piece of bread in his hand. When the blue eyed, curly brown haired Hobbit cautiously raised his head and looked up towards our group, I can't say I really blame him for the fearful look that had fallen upon his face. The five of us sat in the shadows, with the hoods of our cloaks drawn up, and our heads were all turned in their direction, our features completely hidden from view. Not quite the best way to look when you are supposed to be helping this Hobbit and his three friends in the coming days.

"Excuse me. That man and his four companions in the corner. Who are they?" Asked the blue eyed Halfling from where he sat of Mr. Butterbur as he walked by with some bread and three mugs of ale for other customers; his voice small and quiet.

"He's one of 'em Rangers; they're dangerous fold, wandering the Wilds. What his right name is, I've never heard, but round here he's known as Strider. As for his companions, they are rather friendly fold, even if they do not look it. I have seen their faces, but they wish to keep hidden from strangers. Although, they have never told me their right names, word has gotten around Bree that they are known as Thea, Alys, Ayleth and Ellyn," Butterbur informed the three young Halflings, glancing in our direction now and again as he spoke.

"Strider. Thea. Alys. Ayleth. Ellyn," The Hobbit whispered to himself, the flickering flames dancing lightly on his cheeks as he pondered over our names.

Not long afterwards, the five of us all looked to each other when we felt an overwhelming sense of evil suddenly erupt in the room. Others started to notice it too. Ellyn looked closely at the Hobbits while the rest of us paid close attention to the other men in the tavern, making sure this evil presence didn't overwhelm any of the weaker men and cause them to act out foolishly. A few moments later Ellyn nudged Ayleth's arm and kicked Strider's leg before nodding towards the brown haired, blue eyed Hobbit and whispered to look down at his hands. When we all did we noticed that he was playing with a gold ring under the table. At first we thought it was just an ordinary right, but then we heard it. That's when we realized just how wrong we really were.

"Baggins. Baggins. Baggins. Baggins. Baggins," This low, evil whisper could faintly be heard under the loud chattering of the tavern. This whisper could only come from one thing, the one Ring of Power; and that voice that we, and others around the tavern heard, was that of the Dark Lord, Sauron.

The last _'Baggins' _whispered by the Ring was mixed in with the talking of the third Hobbit, the one who had gone to get a pint of ale after his friend had brought one back to their table.

"Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins. He's over there. Frodo Baggins. He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side and my third cousin, twice removed on his father's side, if you follow me," Spoke the dark golden blond haired Hobbit, pointing back towards Sam and the others at their table as he spoke.

The Halfling now known as Frodo Baggins, the famous Bilbo Baggins' nephew, began to run towards his second cousin, obviously in a hurry to try and stop him from letting anymore information out, dodging in-between the figures and legs of the giants around him. As he was being jostled around from side to side by the men around him, Strider, Alys, Ayleth, Ellyn and I all sat at the edge of our wooden seats, ready to spring up in the Ring slipped from Frodo's hand or if any harm came to the poor Halfling; our hoods just barely staying on our heads now, our features just barely concealed behind a layer of weather worn cloth.

"Pippin!" Cried Frodo when he reached his second cousin, grabbing his sleeve and tugging backwards slightly, spilling some of Pippin's ale in the process.

"Steady on, Frodo!" Pippin replied, ripping his arm free from Frodo's grasp, knocking him backwards; Frodo sudden unbalance caused him to slip on the toe of a well worn boot of one of the men standing just behind him. The young Hobbit fell backwards, the Ring flying up into the air as his back made contact with the hard, cold, dusty and ale covered stone floor. The Ring seemed to hover in the air for a moment or two before crashing right back down onto Frodo's pointed finger and he disappeared from sight.

"Oh!" Exclaimed many of the men that had gathered around Frodo and Pippin, gasps and other exclamations could be heard all around the tavern as well, even a few curses could be heard. Strider, Alys, Ayleth, Ellyn and I all shot up from our seats, knocking them down to the floor or back against the wall as we rushed towards the spot where Frodo once was; struggling in vain to push past many of the men, trying to follow Frodo's tiny footsteps that he left in the slight dust and grim that layered the stone floor. When he pulled the Ring off moments later he was closer to where Strider was, resting up against the foot of a table and breathing quite heavily. Strider quickly grabbed Frodo by the shoulder, sweat evident on Frodo's forehead after experiencing the horrors of the Ring, and dragged him down one of the corridors which led to the stairs; Ellyn, Alys, Ayleth and I followed close behind. Strider pushed the frightened Halfling up against a nearby wood panelled wall and said, "You draw far too much attention to yourself, Mr. 'Underhill.'"

After this he turned around and carried the Hobbit up a few stairs by the back of his shirt before pushing him up the rest of the stairs and into the room that we have been renting for the last few days.

"What do you want?" Questioned a spooked Frodo of Strider as I closed the door behind me, everyone else already having entered the room.

"A little more caution from you. That is no trinket you carry," I warned him, keeping my hood well on my head, masking my features from the frightened Hobbit as I turned towards him.

"I carry nothing," Countered the Halfling as he backed up against the pillar of the stone fireplace which provided mos of the light for the small, yet comforting room; the rest of the light was provided by the moon, peeking through the clouds and shinning in through the window.

"Indeed. We can avoid being seen if we wish, but to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift," Strider said, walking over to the window and putting out the flames of a few candles with his fingers. After doing so he turned around to face us again, removing his hood from his head and revealing his ruffled, shoulder length brown hair and blue - with a tint of grey - eyes that held much wisdom and many stories of adventure and danger.

"Who are you?" Frodo once again questioned and although he was looking at Strider as he spoke, the question was aimed at all who stood in the room.

"Are you frightened?" Alys asked the Halfling, ignoring his question. Her questioning brought Frodo to turn towards the four of us, standing near the closed wooden door, his only escape out of this situation he had gotten into; our hoods still drawn, our features all but hidden from his bright blue, pondering eyes.

"Yes," Frodo hesitated before answering truthfully, unsure of who queried him from the four that had stood before him.

"Not nearly frightened enough. We know what hunts you," Strider informed the Hobbit as he stepped closer to him, confusing and worrying Frodo even more.

Strider and Frodo held eye contact with each other before the six of us hear a commotion coming from the stairs, a commotion that only got louder and closer towards our room. Acting quickly, Strider turns, ripping out his sword from it's scabbard and standing in front of Frodo. Alys, Ayleth, Ellyn and I follow suit and quickly draw our swords as well - faster then both the man and the Halfling could even comprehend, using speed that only Elves could muster - before turning and positioning ourselves protectively in front of Strider and Frodo. Just as we finish readying ourselves the door to the room is thrown open and we were met by the most unlikely of foes.

"Let him go! Or I'll have you, Longshanks," Sam shouted as he threw open the door, the light from the fireplace illuminating half of his face and the moon the other half, giving him an almost sinister look. Pippin and their final companion came bursting through the door after him, both with a gleam of adrenaline shining in their eyes at the prospect of a fight, a fight to save their beloved friend. Sam bravely help up his fists, while Pippin held a stool and their friend held a candelabrum as weapons to use against our swords. Seeing them as no foe, the five of us quickly sheathe our swords, doing our best to conceal the small smiles upon our faces at these Hobbits' courage.

Strider spoke to Sam, "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit. But that will not save you."

"You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming," I turned around and warned Frodo, and in turn the others; the light from the fireplace illuminating the left side of my face under my hood, revealing my blue eyes, my blond hair, and my natural Elven beauty.


	3. Chapter 3

"They are here," Alys spoke from where she stood by the window that overlooked the dark, deserted and mud filled streets of Bree. The moonlight shone through thin, grey clouds as it streamed into our room and illuminated Alys' face underneath her dark green hood eerily.

"Where are they?" Questioned Strider, as he walked up to the window and stood beside Alys, the moonlight shining down on his face and making his grey eyes glow magically.

"They are just coming through the West gates of Bree right now. We cannot tell you much, though, old friend. For as much as we wish to be able to see them and everything that they do we were not blessed with that ability by the Valar; we can only sense their evil as they make their way closer to us," I murmured quietly as I stepped up to join the two at the window, the moonlight just barely lightening up my features from under my dark green hood, keeping in mind that the Hobbits were sleeping softly only a few feet away.

"Ah, I see them now," Strider spoke moments later, as we could all now see the four Nazgûl galloping through the muddy, deserted streets of Bree on their black as coal horses; as every second passed, the Nazgûl got closer and closer, their evil intensifying with each hoof fall of their horses.

The five of us watched from the window as the Nazgûl jumped down from their steeds and glided towards the door to the Prancing Pony, faintly hearing the old, wooden door as it slammed against the tavern walls inside. Alys, Ayleth, Ellyn and I could sense poor Mr. Butterbur hiding behind the bar, frightened out of his wits; faintly hear the armor clad footsteps of the Riders as they walked up the old, creaky wooden stairs and into one of the Hobbit rooms. Silently they walk to the beds, one to each of the four, swords drawn silently at their sides. The room almost completely dark except for the moonlight that streams through the window and rests upon the floor and beds of the Hobbits. Sam stirs and turns in his sleep before falling silent once more. Pippin stirs as well, as if awakening from a dream, before falling back into the world of dreams, his light snoring filling the room. Merry's quiet snores mix with Pippin's. The Riders noiselessly raise their swords in front of them. In a wicked, yet graceful movement, the Nazgûl quickly plunge their swords into the four Hobbit beds. Each stroke and stab of the sword causes a metallic ring to fly through the air before faintly reaching our ears across the street. We could only watch the shadows of the Riders moving in the window and listen to their horses whinny and neigh below in the muddy and abandoned streets.

The Hobbits are awoken and bolt straight up from the bed as the screams of the Black Riders reach their ears. Shriek after endless, rage filled shriek flies from the Hobbits room in the Prancing Pony, quickly followed by the four Nazgûl as they flee from the Inn and rush over to their ever faithful steeds.

"What are they?" Questioned Frodo from where he sat on the bed, drawing Strider, Ayleth, Ellyn, Alys and mine's attention away from the streets below to the Hobbits who were now all awake and staring at us expectantly; fear shining brightly in all of their eyes. The screams of the Black Riders could still be heard from below.

"They were once Men. Great kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power," I answered, the light of the dying fire flickering on the right side of my face while the moonlight shone of the left under my still drawn hood.

"Blinded by their greed, they took them without question. One by one falling into darkness," Alys continued, glancing from the Hobbits back to the retreating shadows of the Black Riders.

"Now they are slaves to his will. They are the Nazgûl. Ringwraiths. Neither living nor dead," Ellyn added, as her gaze traveled across the faces of Sam, Merry, Pippin and Frodo.

"At all times they feel the presence of the Ring. Drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you," Strider finished, finally taking his gaze from the retreating shapes of the Nazgûl as they finally reached the broken down gates of Bree to the Hobbits.

"Get some sleep little ones. It will be quite some time before you will be able to rest peacefully in a bed. We have a long day of traveling ahead of us tomorrow," Ayleth spoke gently to the Hobbits as she walked over to the bed with Ellyn and tucked the four of them back under the covers. The two of them sat at the corner of the bed and watched as the Hobbits rustled in the bed sheets, looking for a comfortable spot before the two Elves were questioned by Pippin.

"Could you tell us a story, Lady Ayleth?"

"I think I could. Hmmm...Ah, here's a good one. Quite some years back Alys, Thea, Ellyn, and I were traveling through the high, snow covered peaks of the Misty Mountains when we stopped to rest for the night. Alys had somehow managed to get a fire going in the blistering cold winds and was keeping first watch while the rest of us slept. Not long after we had fallen asleep, Alys decided to go walk around and see if any dangers were nearby. While she was away some of the Mountain Goblins had come across our camp from the opposite direction that Alys had gone in and snuffed out our fire. Shortly after the fire had been put out, Thea awoke to find out why it had gotten much cooler then it was and much darker when she saw the dark shadows of the Goblins. Thinking quickly she called out to Alys which in turn woke up Ellyn and I and we fought against the Goblins on a cliff high above solid ground that was not much wider then this bed. I had been pushed back by a wall of massive, grotesque looking Goblins and was near the edge of the cliff when a humongous Goblin lunged at me. I managed to push him past me and it seemed like ages before his terrified screams ended. The Goblins suddenly stopped fighting and began to run away, their strange shrieks filling the cold air as they retreated. It turns out that the massive Goblin that had lunged at me was the leader of that group of Goblins. Luckily, we all managed to escape the battle with minor cuts and bruises," Ayleth told the Hobbits.

"Well everyone, but you Ayleth," Ellyn commented.

"Yes, of course. With my luck, the leading Goblin had managed to rake my arm with his sword. From here to here the wound went and blood was just streaming out of my arm," Ayleth said as she rolled up the sleeve of her right arm and pointed to a long, white scar that ran from her shoulder to just above her elbow. "Luckily though, Alys got her fire going again and we were able to heat the tip of my sword and press it against my wound a couple of times to seal it; this also helped to stop my wound from getting infected," Ayleth finished, the Hobbits stared at her scar from where they sat in the bed with astonished faces.

"Did it hurt, milady?" Sam questioned innocently, his brown eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yes, like most wounds it hurt," Ayleth answered truthfully as she rolled down her sleeve and adjusted her dark green cloak.

"That is the end of her story though, little ones. It is late, and it's time you Hobbits got some more sleep," Ellyn said as she affectionately ruffled Pippin's hair. The Hobbits listened and shortly after laying down were soon fast asleep, their minds currently wiped of all thoughts of Black Riders and dreaming of their own adventures.

"Ayleth, Ellyn, Alys you three should get some sleep as well. The three of you have not rested for some time," I advised my friends from where I stood by the fireplace.

"Very well," Alys complied and the three of them soon found places on chairs in the room to sleep in; within moments their slowed and steady breathing mixed with the light snores of the Hobbits filling the air of the small room.

"Where are you going?" Strider asked when he saw me walking towards the door; mixed emotions filling his eyes, a mixture between curiosity, worry, and some other emotion that I could not place my finger on.

"Across the street and into the Prancing Pony. I am going to see how Barliman is and if anything happened to any of the men that were there from earlier," Satisfied with my answer, Strider nodded his head before turning back to stare out the window, watching my small, dark figure closely as I walked across the muddied street before disappearing into the Prancing Pony. 

Morning soon came and the Hobbits, now accompanied by Alys, Ellyn, Ayleth and I as well as our horses, ran to catch up with Strider who was ahead of us. The early morning sun just beginning to break through the rain clouds that had hung over Bree the previous night, sending warm rays of sunlight to dance and sparkle in the dew that weighed down the green blades of grass beneath our feet; the chirping of Blue Birds could be heard in the trees of the Chetwood Forest high above our heads and the buildings of Bree could just barely be seen in the distance behind us.

"Where are you taking us?" Frodo asked of Strider who was still some feet ahead of him and the other Hobbits; Alys and Ellyn walked in the middle of our group, leading their horses, Rosalie and Alice, while Ayleth and I were leading our horses, Elizabeth and Aerith, from the front of the group as we now were walking along side Strider.

"Into the wild," Strider threw over his shoulder as he looked back to make sure the Hobbits weren't too far behind.

It had been a few hours, the lush green hills now behind us, the warm sunlight hidden by light grey clouds and an eerie, yet enchanting mist had now danced it way in between the trunks of the tall trees that surrounded our small, traveling group. The beautiful and lively chirping of Blue Birds had settled down, and the once lively forest of Chetwood had quickly become gloomy and silent.

"How do we know this Strider and these Ladies are friends of Gandalf's?" Merry asked quietly, coming up beside his cousin, Frodo, suspicion dripping from each word as he glanced distrustfully at our backs as we walked through the maze of moss covered trees.

"I think servants of the enemy would look fairer, but feel fouler," Frodo responded, glancing up at our backs and then back at Merry.

"Strider is foul enough. Lady Alys, Ellyn, Ayleth and Thea seem much nicer and friendlier," Merry responded before slowing down his pace to walk beside Sam who walked at the back of our traveling group.

"You are not foul, dear friend," I whispered to Strider, taking a hold of his hand in my fingerless gloved hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze. A small ray of sunlight slipped through a hole in the grey clouds above our heads and shone down through the canopy of leaves before falling upon my face, illuminating my flawless skin and making my blonde hair shine brightly under my dark green, almost black, hood; as I glanced up at him, offering a dazzling smile, Strider returning one with his trademark toothy grin.

"We have no choice but to trust them," Frodo said to the three Hobbits surrounding him, sounding a bit reluctant as he spoke of their new traveling companions.

"But where are they taking us?" Sam questioned as he lead his pony, Bill whom he had gotten before we left Bree, through the endless maze of trees; the sound of the pots and pans that both Sam and Bill carried in their packs rattling throughout the peaceful Chetwood Forest.

"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee. To the House of Elrond," I informed the Hobbits, startling them slightly when they realized that we had heard their conversation; a hint of happiness shone in my eyes and could be heard in my voice as I spoke of my father and my home.

"D'you hear that! Rivendell! We're going to see the Elves!" Exclaimed Sam, gleeful at the prospect of being in a great Elven city such as Rivendell and being able to interact and live among Elves for some time.

We carried on the rest of the day through the woodland, the wind picking up, bringing in darker clouds and soon rain. Strider pulled his cloak closer to him and brought his hood up over his head, Alys, Ayleth, Ellyn and I soon following his lead. The poor Hobbits though had very thin cloaks that put up very little resistance to the rain; I looked back from where I walked with Aerith near the front of the group, Strider still some ways ahead of me, to see the four Hobbits hanging their heads and looking completely soaked and gloomy.

The temperature dropped over night and during our next day of traveling, white, silky snow soon covered spots here and there along the ground as it fell enchantingly from the grey sky. Alys, Ellyn and Ayleth were now walking side-by-side with the Hobbits, talking with them and even putting the three of them on their horses - Sam on Alys' horse, Rosalie; Merry on Ayleth's horse, Elizabeth; and Pippin on Ellyn's horse, Alice. Frodo had decided sometime earlier in the day to walk with me where we shared many stories about his uncle Bilbo and many tales of the Shire. After some time I began to notice Frodo slowing his pace so I offered him a ride on top of my horse, Aerith, in which he gladly accepted. We had been traveling for quite some time that day and Frodo and I had finished our conversation long ago, now we were just walking in silence, listening to what the others had to say; occasionally, Frodo would join in on his cousin's conversations, but for the most part he was quiet like Strider and I.

We had traveled on through the night, the Hobbits eating some apples and bread that Ayleth and Alys had packed before falling asleep on our horses. It was not long after sunrise that the Hobbits had awoken and decided to jump off the horses and walk again, stretching their cramped legs after a long nights rest; Frodo retreating from my side to walk along side Sam and Bill at the rear of our group. It was quite some time later, at around midday I'd reckon, that Strider paused to get his bearings, looking up at the grey, cloud filled sky and looking out over the large, green bush filled landscape, snow covering the ground around us for miles upon miles; it was during this pause that he and I heard the clattering and clanging of pots and pans. Looking back we see that Alys, Ayleth and Ellyn are looking strangely down at the Hobbits who were all gathered around Sam's pony, Bill, taking out frying pans and cooking utensils from the packs that the pony carried.

"Gentlemen! We do not stop 'til nightfall," Strider called back to the Hobbits as he stood on a slight hill covered in a thin layer of fluffy, white snow.

"What about breakfast?" Questioned Pippin, looking up towards Strider as he pulled a cooking utensil out of one of Bill's packs that had been laid out on the snowy ground.

"You have already had it," Alys replied, quite confused about Pippin's odd question as she looked down on him from where she stood just beside him with Rosalie.

"We've had one yes. What about second breakfast?" Pippin retorted, as if it were quite obvious, as he turned around and stared up at her, this time with a frying pan in hand.

Confused, Strider frowns before turning and walking away shaking his head as he walked. I soon followed behind him with Alys by my side, while Ayleth and Ellyn stayed behind with the Hobbits keeping a watchful eye in case of danger while the little one's packed up their pots and pans and utensils once more.

"I don't think they know about second breakfast Pip," Said Merry as he picked his bag up off the ground before swinging it back onto his shoulders, before setting off to follow Strider, Alys and I up ahead.

"What about elevenses? Luncheon, Afternoon Tea, Dinner? Supper! They know about them, don't they?" Cried out an astounded and quite frightened Pippin as he struggled to catch up with his friend and swing his pack onto his back at the same time.

"I wouldn't count on it," Replied Merry, catching an apple that was tossed over some bushes by Strider and giving it to Pippin as he patted him on the back, before Merry continued walking up the slope towards Alys, Strider and I. Alys tossed another apple over the bushes in Pippin's direction, but the apple ends up hitting the clumsy little Hobbit on the head.

"Pippin!" Merry cried out in annoyance from over the bushes.

Before Pippin could catch up with Merry, Ellyn walked up beside him, resting her hand on his little shoulder.

"Don't worry Pippin, we know about lunch and supper, but seldom will we eat lunch, besides a few apples. You will have to suffice with breakfast and supper only," She told him, smiling down at him reassuringly, before picking him up and putting him atop her horse, Alice, once again. Checking behind her to see how Sam and Frodo were doing, Ellyn continued up the slope and joined Strider, Alys and I on the other side of the bushes as we continued our long journey towards Rivendell. Sam and Frodo quickly finished tying up the packs once again onto Bill before they too hurried to catch up with the rest of us, Frodo leading Bill this time; lastly, Ayleth followed them leading Elizabeth as she brought up the rear of our small group.


End file.
